


counterpoise

by pretense



Series: awkward crushing [3]
Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Crush Resolution, Friends to Lovers to Bitter Exes to Friends, Graduation, Haircuts, M/M, vil-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27624782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretense/pseuds/pretense
Summary: Their eyes lock, challenging the other's conviction. There used to be a time when just a look would have sufficed, would have been enough to read into what they were thinking. It was easy, as they were usually on the same wavelength, often wanting for the same things… This time, Azul is the first to look away, sky blue gaze turning into stormy gray. "You were never mine, Vil." After a beat of silence, he hears Vil sigh."No. I suppose I wasn't."
Relationships: Azul Ashengrotto/Vil Schoenheit
Series: awkward crushing [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019737
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	counterpoise

It feels strange, walking these hallowed halls once again. Green flame burns in sconces along the walls, alerted to a student’s presence and making themselves useful even in the dead of the night. Maybe he should’ve worn his uniform, then he wouldn’t be feeling like a stranger, a trespasser.

A chilly breeze caresses Vil’s cheek as he looks out at the courtyard down below. He’s tempted to take a stroll, maybe even walk all the way to Main Street, just to shake off the nerves clinging to his back like a cape -- if a cape had claws and it’s nails were stakes driving into his chest spreading frost. Vil shakes his head. He’s just psyching himself out now and that won’t do. It’s been a year. He’s had a full year to think it over, to understand why it had bothered him so. Time and distance have cleared his mind, he’s long overdue to make amends.

Vil turns around, walking back into the Mirror Chamber with newfound determination. Any further delay would be seriously cutting into his bedtime and that’s something Vil can’t have when he -- and the entire student body -- will be attending the senior students’ graduation rites next morning. He has to do this now.

Mostro Lounge’s lights are dim, making Vil reconsider as he walks up to its glass double doors. Knowing Azul, the Octavinelle prefect is likely still in there, tallying the day’s earnings or reviewing his contracts or… something. Azul has always been something of a busybody.

Hm.

Perhaps Vil should’ve called first. It’s presumptuous of him to think he’d be welcomed so readily--

“Aha! It’s the betta fish!”

Vil looks up, surprised to find Floyd peeking out the front door.

“I thought I saw a suspicious shadow out here but it’s just you!” Floyd grins. “Haven’t seen you around here much lately~”

“I’ve gone on my internship,” Vil says. “It’s part of the fourth year curriculum.”

“Your visits went scarce even before that, though,” Floyd points out, cocking his head.

“I… well.”

“Is that why you forgot that the Lounge closed early tonight?”

“Actually, I--”

“Ha?”

Vil doesn’t appreciate Floyd’s fickle mood but it wouldn’t do to lose his temper at him. He can’t get turned away now. “I’m here to see Azul. It’s important.”

Floyd blinks slowly, then he says, “I’m supposed to be closing up but…” His golden eye glints. “If you promise to be very quiet, I’ll let you in~”

“I assure you, I’m not looking to start a riot,” Vil quirks a grin. “I’ll make my business quick.”

“Alrighty~” Floyd holds the door open, allowing Vil to pass. “Azul’s in the VIP Room. You know the way.”

“I do.”

Three sharp knocks give Azul pause. He isn’t expecting visitors this late and Floyd certainly wouldn’t bother knocking if he wanted to come in. Finishing his notations, Azul sets aside his pen before calling out, “Come in.” He smells the expensive cologne before he even sees Vil but it’s enough of a cue to recognize him.

It has been exactly one year since Azul had last seen Night Raven College's very own student celebrity; even then, it was from afar. Now that they’re standing in the same room, it’s suddenly all too much. Vil has grown even more breathtakingly beautiful, making everything else pale in comparison, making Azul feel unworthy to even be breathing in his presence but he quickly gathers himself.

“Vil. What a surprise.”

“Hello, Azul.” Vil is dressed in designer clothes and tasteful jewelry but it’s his smile that Azul can’t look away from. It’s relaxed, genuine, not a trace of the bitterness he last remembers. “I’m sorry to impose on you at this hour.”

“Please. Have a seat,” Azul replies, rising from his desk. Azul is understandably wary but he is a businessman and his professionalism is his most reliable facet. “I wasn’t aware that you were already back. I didn’t see you at dinner. Rook was there, though, and the other third years…”

“I came in after.”

"Can I offer you a drink?"

"No, thank you." Vil settles on the leather couch. “I thought it would be terribly boring to answer the same catch-up questions two days in a row so I’ll just deal with all of them at the ceremony tomorrow.”

“How efficient.” Azul settles on the opposite end, maintaining a respectable distance. “Then, can I presume that this visit is something that couldn’t wait?”

Vil's smile sobers. “You already know what this is about, Azul. The way we ended things wasn't exactly ideal. Not even cordial."

 _Imperfect_.

The notion must have been grating on Vil as someone who is always reaching for the ideal in every aspect of being. Apparently, that includes his break-ups.

"Don't fret," Azul smoothly assures him. "I hold no illusion as to the nature of our involvement. It had simply run its course."

"Is that really how you see it?" Vil leans back, affecting something that could be called pout if it was less sophisticated.

"What more could there be to it?"

Their eyes lock, challenging the other's conviction. There used to be a time when just a look would have sufficed, would have been enough to read into what they were thinking. It was easy, as they were usually on the same wavelength, often wanting for the same things… This time, Azul is the first to look away, sky blue gaze turning into stormy gray. "You were never mine, Vil." After a beat of silence, he hears Vil sigh.

"No. I suppose I wasn't."

 _And that was that,_ Azul thought. A clean break-up befitting the unblemished, unfettered, unattainable queen.

"But that doesn't mean it was all for naught," Vil continues, surprising the younger student. "I came here because I have something that, I think, should be yours to keep."

Does Vil really think that some consolation prize would mend the rift? Preposterous. And yet, Azul's curiosity gets the better of him. "What is it?"

Vil offers up the item he'd brought for Azul's perusal, it's the size of a small clutch purse… or, more likely, a jewelry box -- deep red with a high-gloss finish, its sides painted a bright shade of blue to effect an eye-catching contrast. There's a golden latch upfront, securing what surely must be treasures within.

"It needs a key…"

"Right here." Vil guides his hand to a hidden compartment underneath. A panel of wood slides away and a small key drops onto Azul's gloved palm.

"How convenient," Azul mutters while Vil tilts his head in a soft shrug, even such a simple gesture appears inviting, alluring. Azul shifts backwards, further examining the box as an excuse for the sudden distance. With the key in place, he lifts the top cover, eager to discover it's contents and then… his heart drops.

On a black velvet cushion lays a golden heart, stabbed through with a dagger.

Azul swallows thickly. "This is--"

Everyone knows the design of Vil's signature accessory, inspired from the Beautiful Queen herself. Copies of it have been made and sold all over the world, but this one… coming from Vil himself is…

"It's dwarven-craft," Vil relays without looking at him, his gentle gaze reserved for the item within the jewelry box. "18 karat gold and fortified with dwarven magic. It gives the wearer some amount of poison resistance, and also…"

Some part of Azul is keenly taking stock of the barrette's magical properties but a much larger part of him is still in shock. "Vil," he finally manages, belatedly noticing how Vil's hair isn't made in its usual braided style. "I can't accept this. It's _yours_ , I can't just… you can't just give something like this away so easily!"

"It wasn't an easy decision, I assure you." Vil closes the lid before lifting his eyes to Azul once more. "But I do think giving this to you would be for the best."

"I…" The small jewelry box suddenly feels so heavy in Azul's hands. "I have no use for this."

It's a lie and they both know it. Magical properties aside, the hair ornament would easily fetch a million Madollars or more just for being once owned by the famous Vil Schoenheit. Azul could put it up for auction, he could use it as a bargaining chip, he could sample and attempt to replicate its dwarven charms for commercial application, Azul could do so much if he were so inclined but at the end of the day, it will ultimately serve to remind him of Vil. Little else matters in the face of that, _nothing_ else can hope to compare.

True to his moniker as Pomefiore’s _Roi du Poison_ , no one can claim to remain unchanged after having had a taste of him. Azul would’ve succumbed to a lethal dose, as so many others before him had done, thinking himself too smart to fall into ruin over something so innocuous as desire but Vil must have taken notice. Vil must have taken pity on poor, unfortunate Azul who’s gotten all wrapped up in sweet nothings and intimacies. Addicted, in a word. No wonder he had retaliated with bitterness at Vil’s abrupt dismissal, coldly cut-off from something he’d (naively) come to think as _meaningful_. Vil had become abrasive in those last few weeks, then he just disappeared without a word.

Night Raven College wasn’t the same with all the fourth years gone. Without Vil, all the inevitable drama that usually surrounded him seemed to settle on their own. (That's not to say the remaining students weren't capable of wreaking their own havoc, but, Azul digresses.) He had forged on. He’d gotten over his foolishness, focused on topping his academics, on expanding the business. In the back of his mind, Azul knew he’ll probably see Vil again, possibly for one last time for the seniors’ graduation rites, but to think that it would unfold like this… It’s a truly cruel joke.

Vil who had gone without so much as a goodbye, who had left him bitter and wounded in places unseen, who has sought him out first thing upon his return to campus. This Vil is a mirror-image of the one who had hurt Azul before and worst part is that everything about him makes Azul ache in the best possible way. 

"Then just hold on to it. For me."

"For how long?" Azul dares to ask.

"Who knows?" Vil tucks his hair behind an ear; even without the styling, golden locks elegantly frame his beautiful face, the smile in those gem-cut eyes. "Perhaps until we meet again."

Because Vil will be graduating tomorrow, and the day after that Azul will be heading out to pursue his specialization. Indeed, who knows when they'll meet again? _If?_

"People are bound to notice that you aren't wearing your barrette anymore," Azul comments, a last ditch attempt to get Vil to reconsider his gift.

"Mm. Maybe not as much as you'd think," Vil gets that mischievous glint in his expression. "I'm thinking of getting a haircut after graduation. A new look for a fresh start."

"You look fine as it is." Azul finishes his bookkeeping for the day and sets the documents aside. Vil was supposed to head back ten minutes ago after entrusting his precious treasure to Azul but it didn't feel right to just up and leave after the conversation they had; not to mention the things that hung heavy in the air but weren't voiced out for the sake of rebuilding their tentative friendship.

"That's very well and true but I've been wanting to try something shorter." Vil pulls up a photo on his smartphone. "Like this. My stylist recommended it the last time I had a photo shoot."

Azul walks over for a closer look and is immediately hit with a loss for words.

"What do you think?" Vil prompts, glancing over his shoulder.

"It's certainly… stylish." Azul pushes his glasses up, hoping it would sufficiently shield the way he's staring at Vil’s crowning glory, dreading its imminent demise.

"You say 'stylish' but your tone tells me 'what a shame', which one is it really, Azul?"

"I understand that celebrities tend to 'reinvent' their looks on a regular, if at times arbitrary, basis but…" Azul twirls a lock around his finger before he could double-think it. "I liked you like this." The way Vil's golden hair shines like champagne, tinting an exquisite lavender at the ends, the gentle wave of it ending neatly at shoulder-length -- it's not a look that anyone can just pull off.

"I can't stay the same way forever," comes Vil's flippant reply. "That's not how it goes. Even you would have to change, too. Even just a little bit."

"You mean growing human legs and walking on land wasn't enough of a change for me?"

"Oh." Vil colors, cheeks turning red. "Apologies, I forgot."

Azul laughs, letting go and standing back. "I'll consider it forgiven if you'd let me cut your hair." But as soon as he says it, something clicks. "Will you…?"

Vil stares at him. "Do you even know _how?"_

"I cut my own hair. Sometimes."

"Azul."

He can’t tell if Vil is seriously considering it. Perhaps that magical barrette had been Vil’s sole impulse control and now that it’s sealed away in a box, Vil is feeling restless. Reckless. It must be affecting Azul, too, then, because the next words out of his mouth are, "Find me a video tutorial and give me five minutes to learn it."

"By the Great Seven…"

Azul feeds off Vil’s amused exasperation. "I'm serious! Let me--"

"My graduation ceremony is _tomorrow_ , if you mess this up--"

"I won't! I promise I'll be careful."

"I can't believe this…"

They relocate to Azul's room with its in-suite bathroom that's exclusively for the prefect's use. Vil leaves his jacket on the bed and Azul does the same, shedding the outer layers of his dorm uniform until he's just in his shirt, cummerbund, suspenders, and pants. He even takes off his gloves, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows to avoid getting them wet.

Vil does find a haircut tutorial that would serve their purposes and they pore over it together, discussing what magic can be involved to make the process easier. They get into a minor argument between using a magic pen or just regular scissors or even magically enhanced scissors. Finally, Vil leans back against the porcelain bathtub allowing Azul to wash his hair.

"You know," Vil says. "Sitting on the floor of your bathroom getting a haircut at one in the morning isn't how I imagined this night would go."

"How did you imagine it, then?" Azul massages shampoo into Vil's scalp (the choice of lather pre-approved, of course) taking care not to get any foam onto his flawless face.

"After giving you my barrette, I thought that would be it," Vil admits, closing his eyes as Azul starts rinsing. "I'd see you tomorrow and then…" _Never_ , seems to be implied with the way his statement trails off.

"But you stayed."

"Because you looked so unsettled."

"Yes, I was. It is an entirely valid reaction when people just drop a keepsake on your lap for no discernable reason."

"I did worry that you were going to have a change of heart and you'll chuck it right back at me in the middle of the graduation ceremony."

"Hmph." Azul squeezes excess water out of Vil's hair, wrapping a fluffy white towel around his shoulders to keep it from getting wet as he orders him to stand. "Go sit in front of the sink while I fetch my scissors."

Vil has his phone propped up on a shelf beside the mirror, displaying the haircut they're supposed to achieve by the end of this session. It will involve chopping off most of his hair and he _does_ feel some sort of regret to lose it all but it also promises to be cathartic. 

Azul returns to stand behind him, tools at the ready, looking incredibly alert given the task at hand. Their eyes meet in the mirror and Vil smiles.

_Snip. Snip._

* * *

“How do I look?”

“Stunning! _Magnifique!_ Your beauty is a gift to all who will lay eyes on you, Vil!”

“Thank you, Rook.” Vil turns away from the mirror. “Shall we?”

Pomefiore’s third year prefect has ordered all the students to line up outside the dormitory, ready to depart in a single file. The seniors’ graduation rites will be held at an enormous theater built on the main campus. Golden sunlight of a new day breaks through the clouds, casting a sparkle on the diadem that rests asymmetrical around Vil’s temple. Idle chatter and fussy movements all halt when they realize that Vil has come out, his critical eye inspecting each and everyone of them to ensure that they’re presentable. Once satisfied that everything is in order, Vil gives the command to march and strides forth, leading the way. Pomefiore’s students are ready to follow their _Roi du Poison_ without question but then, as he turns his back, they’re all greeted with the shock of a lifetime.

Painted mouths hang open, artfully lined eyes have gone round like the moon. Rook’s smile widens, unable to help the display of perfect white teeth. He holds a finger to his lips and motions for the rest of the students to start moving. There will be plenty of opportunity to gawk at Vil later. 

“Oh, my word… Vil! Vil!” Cater runs all the way from Heartslabyul’s line formation as soon as the ceremony is over. Amidst the cheering and applause, Riddle can be heard calling him back to no avail.

“ _Monsieur MagiCam!_ ” Rook tactfully intercepts the excitable young man. “Congratulations!”

“Ah, yes, of course, you too!” Cater smiles distractedly, his eyes don’t quite meet Rook’s instead flitting over his shoulder where Vil is engaged in conversation with other graduates. “Wow… It’s right in front of me and I still can’t believe it.”

“What could be so unbelievable?” Rook asks.

“Him! Vil! He’s got--”

“A new look, yes.”

“Since when? Did he really just show up this morning looking like _that?_ This is, like, big news! It’s not even on MagiCam yet! I _have_ to take a photo with him!”

“ _You_ need to get back in line.” Trey inserts himself into the conversation with a testy smile. “Riddle is about to throw a fit.”

“Oh, boo.” Cater pouts. “I’m heading back as soon as I get my photo. I’ll be quick!”

_“Cater.”_

“ _Chevalier Rose_ ,” Rook greets the newcomer, appeasing. “I’ll see what I can do to assist _Monsieur MagiCam_ ’s quest.”

“Um, ok, that’s… Thanks, Rook, but,” Trey’s stern gaze pins Cater in place. “What happened to your social media detox? You said you were gonna--”

“This is my one photo for the day!” Cater grins. “Okay, one photo _set_ for the day! It’s graduation, Trey! Let me live a little!”

“Trey and Cater, thanks for coming over,” Vil appears before them, smiling. “Malleus was just saying how we should drop by the other dorms but, well, you’re here now.” With that poise and his full make-up on point, Vil looks very much like the Beautiful Queen incarnate.

Trey stands a little dumbstruck but Cater is quick to sidle up and cajole Vil into a selfie together.

“I thought you just had your hair braided differently,” Trey starts, adjusting his glasses. “But, wow… it really is… short.”

“Hm.” Vil preens. “And what do you think of it?”

“Beautiful,” Rook and Cater chorus.

“I think it suits you very well,” Trey admits. “How did your internship go?”

“Oh, you know…”

They make their way through to the other dorms to offer their congratulations. Kalim even breaks through the ranks of Scarabia graduates to give Vil an enthusiastic hug. Jamil offers more sober salutations before pulling Kalim off their seniors, berating him to behave. The Octvinelle group is a lot more composed but there's no shortage of staring and gaping, especially from the underclassmen.

"The betta fish looks extra sparkly today," Floyd blinks.

"He certainly knows how to make a grand comeback," Jade agrees. "It makes you wonder as to what could've swayed his hand to make such a bold change."

"Ask Azul~ Betta fish swam over to pay him a visit last night."

"Is that right?"

Azul clears his throat. "We took care of some unfinished business. Nothing more."

Leona's feline ears flick back and forth. So that's it, huh? How needlessly sentimental but that's just about what he can expect from herbivores like them.

"Good to see you, Leona."

He bristles, immediately recognizing that tone. "Malleus," Leona acknowledges with no shortage of disdain. "Got yourself a nice little entourage, have you?"

"It is nice to be around old friends," Malleus replies serenely. "Though it is a shame that the Lord and Lady of the Valley of Thorns have missed today’s gathering. I was looking forward to introducing my colleagues to them.”

Leona scoffs. “So what? You’re saying this ‘didn’t get the invite’ thing is some kinda hereditary shit?”

“No, I think they’re just busy,” Lilia pipes up. “I don’t see King Farena around, either.”

“Tsch.”

“Oho~ but I do see a cute little cub up there!” Lilia puts a hand over his eyes like a visor, gazing across the theater towards the VIP guest section. “I think he’s trying to get your attention, Leona.”

“Ignore him.”

“Ugh, can I go now?” Idia complains to nobody in particular. “I’ve been up since three in the morning, you know…”

“Ehh? Why so early?” Lilia’s curiosity is piqued and he spins around to face the Shroud heir. “Were you _that_ nervous about graduation?”

“Well, I mean,” Idia awkwardly looks down. “I was actually on a… a thing… a telecon with, uh, tech reps from my internship… they didn’t care about the time difference at all… I had to be the one to, to adjust to their stupid schedule.” He wrings his hand together when Lilia’s expression remains expectant. Idia averts his gaze only to find that Malleus is also listening in.

“You are quite diligent, Shroud,” Malleus says, a clear encouragement to keep him talking.

“I-I-It’s nothing like that,” Idia stutters. “We-We’re just, you know, uh, prepping for this… this simu-launch of a new VRMMO--”

“Didn’t think I’d live to see the day Idia is actually socializing,” Leona mutters, moving away from the trio. Idia had the right idea about getting out of here, it’s a shame he went stupid and let himself get caught.

“ _Roi des Leon_ , what an honor to have you graduate with us!”

_Damn it._

Rook’s smile says that he very well knew that Leona tried to give them all the slip just now and he had decided to get in the way of that. Probably just to mess with him one last time.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm pretty much sick of this school, anyway.” Leona crosses his arms, clearly irritated. “Congrats and whatever.”

“Surely you can afford to be more cheerful than that?” Vil challenges, appearing beside Rook and posing a hand on his hip.

“Nah," Leona smirks. "You're being unbearably chipper enough for all of us. Heard you had a pretty good night."

"You know better than to subscribe to rumors."

"I see plenty of evidence supporting them right here." Leona flicks the trimmed ends of Vil's hair, earning him a twist of painted lips and a faint red blush that makes any curse Vil might throw at him worth it.

Except the curse doesn't come.

Vil briefly looks away, if he catches someone's eye he doesn't show it. He composes himself once more before speaking. "I had no agenda for that visit other than to settle our affairs, whatever else that happened is merely checks and balances."

“If you say so.”

“It is so.”

"Hn."

"…"

"You look good."

"Thank you."

"You wanna…?"

"No, thank you."

Such a blatant rejection only makes Leona grin, canines showing. "… Bet he kept a lock of your hair in a box, though. That shady creep."

* * *

Most of the seniors have made their way home immediately following the ceremony. A few others opted to stay a while longer, to rest, to reminisce, even to coach their underclassmen who will soon take on the same journeys they've made.

"Your recommendation letter certainly paved the way for me. My research studies truly wouldn't have been as fruitful without your help. Thank you so much, Professor."

"Don't mention it, Schoenheit. I look forward to seeing your future contributions to the alchemic field. That, and the greater success of your illustrious career."

The workshop door opens and Vil steps out, smiling. He pauses when he recognizes the figure standing across the hall, prompting Divus to look over as well.

"Did you schedule a consultation today, Ashengrotto? I must've missed it."

"No, sir. Nothing of the sort. I was merely waiting on Vil."

Divus glances between them. "I see. Off you go, then."

"Where will you be spending your internship?"

"I've requested to be assigned at the Jubilee Port. Plenty of curiosities in a port city and it would be good exposure to, let's say, more diverse kinds of trade."

"I'm sure you'll do exceptionally well."

Vil pauses before the Dark Mirror. There are a handful of students loitering about, preparing for their own departure with big bags and bigger hugs from classmates who are seeing them off.

Azul adjusts his glasses. "This is it, then."

"Thank you for accompanying me." Vil holds his suitcase tight. "I'll see you when I do."

"Likewise."

"Goodbye, Azul."

“Farewell.”

**Author's Note:**

> think of [MC from that Jeweler Richard anime](https://jeweler-richard.fandom.com/wiki/Richard_Ranashinha_de_Vulpian), thats Vils new hairdo, still with the lavender ombre
> 
> Does AzulVil meet again in the future? Yes! It involves fake engagement rumors, Niege LeBlanche's prince charming, and a vacation in the Coral Sea~


End file.
